


Being Mindful

by karmula



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Climbing Class, Drabble, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmula/pseuds/karmula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since third grade, the intricacies and inner workings of Josh's mind have been a mystery to Chris. But Chris has never let himself be disheartened by this - it just means that on Josh's bad days, he has to be twice as mindful, and on his good days, he appreciates them twice as much.</p><p>An ongoing collection of short Climbing Class drabbles/oneshots based on <a href="http://mcxcaulfield.tumblr.com/post/132137685856">this post.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed, nor do I claim to. All rights go to the creators of Until Dawn.

“So anyway, Dad called me up – he actually called me, how weird is that, right? Like it wasn’t even a text or anything! – anyway, he called me and was like, “Wanna see the set of the new _Saw_ movie?” I didn’t even know they were _making_ a new _Saw_ movie! So of course I said yes, and I got Beth to drive me down there and bro, it was _so_ cool! Like, it was totally sick! They had fake bodies and there was fake gore everywhere – they use pig’s blood to make it look more real, did you know that? – and I got to like, touch it and shit, and –”

 _Josh is so_ animated _when he’s passionate_ , Chris thinks, watching as his best friend waves his arms about, like a frenzied movie director trying to frame the perfect cut – which, now that Chris considers it, is probably exactly where he learned it from.

Josh’s eyes sparkle, filled with more joy and enthusiasm than Chris has seen in months. His cheeks are flushed, a dusky pink spreading across his tanned face. He’s lost in the story, sitting on the edge of his seat as he tries to paint the scene in the air between them with his fingers.

“Hey, Cochise,” Josh breaks off, cutting his story short to elbow Chris in his side, a mischievous smirk playing across his lips. “Remember when we had that _Saw_ marathon at your place and you threw up all over the butter popcorn? Man, I always knew you were a pussy, but I didn’t know you had such a weak stomach!” Josh doubles over in laughter at the memory, one hand clutched to his stomach, the other pretending to wipe away a tear.

Chris isn’t offended – it’s true, anyway. He did barf all over their popcorn, forcing them to break into the candy stash he keeps under his bed for emergencies only. It had taken him ages to build it up again to its former glory. And anyway, he likes the sound of Josh’s laughter. It isn’t a superficial sound – it bubbles up from deep, deep inside, slightly raspy, full and round and chuckling, and that’s how Chris knows that his best friend is happy right to his core.

When he’s recovered from his giggle-fit, Josh segues right back into his tale without missing a beat. “You _totally_ would have barfed if you’d been there, bro. Like, you would have enjoyed it – who wouldn’t? – but you probably would have barfed right on the corpses. It’s just so cool, seeing how it’s done, y’know? It never gets old!”

Chris leans forward as his friend continues, enraptured, his hands clasped in his lap, and the enchanted grin that spreads across his face comes to him more naturally than breathing – even if this _is_ the seventh time Josh has told him this exact story. Chris doesn’t have the heart, or the desire, to stop him.

Because, truth be told, it isn’t the story that enchants him, and when Josh is having a day as good as this one, Chris has to take all he can get.


	2. The Bro Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Neither of us have the energy for anything more than just lying next to each other in the same room but it’s chill, because it’s still better than being apart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters portrayed, nor do I claim to. All rights go to the creators of Until Dawn.

The curtains are drawn, only the slimmest bar of sunlight making its way into Josh’s bedroom. It falls directly onto his face, casting the sharp angle of his jaw in a golden hue and setting his long lashes aglow for a moment before he shields his eyes with his hand, groaning as he rolls over. Now only the curve of his nose and the dishevelled tangle of his hair, uncombed and slightly greasy, are visible, silhouetted against the window.

It’s only one in the afternoon, but the room is as dark as if it is one in the morning, lit only by the artificial light of the TV – now bluescreening, as the two had abandoned their Call of Duty session an hour ago out of disinterest – and Chris’s phone screen as the blonde scrolls down his Facebook newsfeed. He’s lying on his sleeping bag on the floor, his head propped up on two pillows stolen from Josh’s bed.

Josh himself reclines on his mattress above him, tossing a baseball up into the air and catching it again. It’s probably the one physical activity he can manage without completely botching. The whoosh of the ball through the air and the _smack_ as it falls back into his open palm reverberate through the stifled air, a steady backbeat against the chirping of the birds outside, the humming of the still-awake PS3, and both their breathing. The perfect Sunday afternoon soundtrack – aimless, repetitive, unstimulating.

Chris sighs – he doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help it. He _knows_ Josh isn’t feeling up to going out, knows that doing so would only make him worse, that Josh probably already feels guilty enough about having to stay in today as it is without Chris _sighing_ , for fuck’s sake. It was just… he wished they would at least _talk_. If they were talking, he could usually distract Josh with some goofy joke or another, maybe even coax a laugh out of him. He had even suggested watching a scary movie – gory horror flicks were always the perfect pretence for snuggling into Josh’s arms – but Josh hadn’t been ‘in the mood’.

When it came to Josh, that was how you knew something was _really_ wrong.

“Yo, I’m sorry that I’m like, ruining your afternoon, bro. I mean, it’s only like –” Josh glances at his watch – digital, so he can read it even when his brain is too busy frying itself in anxiety to focus – “One in the afternoon.” He inches closer to the edge of the bed, sticks his head out over the edge. “We could, like, go out, if you really wanted,” he offers, though his voice, unsteady and hesitant, betrays his unwillingness. “We don’t have to stay in this… man-cave.”

“It isn’t a man-cave,” Chris protests, though the room _is_ a mess. _Melinda Washington would have a fit if she walked in right now,_ he thought, casting his eyes over the shadowy shapes he knows are discarded bottles (some half-filled with water, others filled with a substance not quite so innocuous), heaps of dirty laundry, and at least eight empty candy bar wrappers.

Even in the dark, Chris can see Josh raise his eyebrow.

“I prefer to think of it as the _bro zone_ ,” Chris says, a smile in his voice. “Just chillin’ in the bro zone,” he faux-raps, bopping to some imaginary beat. Josh smirks, and when Chris starts beat-boxing, he even laughs.

Chris’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he’d love to go outside – love to see his best friend soaking up the sunshine, maybe sitting in some park somewhere with a picnic spread and sandwiches, enjoying himself without having to worry about the voices in his head telling him that he wasn’t _deserving_ of such enjoyment. And if said voices did come back, Chris could wrap him up in his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay, and maybe for once Josh’d believe him, because it’s always easier to believe a lie in the daytime, with the sun on your skin and the monsters hidden on the other side of the world.

Yeah, of course he’d love that. But Josh didn’t have the energy, and what was more important to Chris was that they were together.

“The bro zone. I like it,” Josh chuckles, reaching out a hand for a high five. “Nice, Cochise.”

Chris slaps his outstretched hand, then grabs ahold of it and gives it a squeeze, accompanied by a reassuring smile. There’s a pause where neither of them are quite sure what to say before Chris breaks the silence. “Hey, do you think there’s room up there for two? I just found a great new trailer for some horror movie coming out in a couple of months. You wanna watch it?”

Josh nods, grinning. “Totally.” He scooches over, pulling Chris up onto the bed beside him. Then Chris’s hand is gone and his arm is around his shoulder instead, the weight of it warm and reassuring rather than oppressive or menacing, and he melts into the touch gratefully. He leans his head on Chris’s shoulder, for once not bitter about their height difference, and his friend’s t-shirt is soft against his cheek. His nose is filled with the slightly artificial, but not unpleasant, scent of coconut and vanilla washing powder, and his ears are filled with the steady sound of Chris’s breathing, then the video on Chris’s phone as he presses play.

Because as long as they were together, as long as they had each other, it didn’t matter where they were.


	3. A Hallmark Card for Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “[buys one of those “just a reminder that i love you” cards] [writes ‘also have you taken your meds’ inside]”

Chris paces the aisle, eyes roaming over the card display. _There are so many_ , he thinks, shaking his head in disbelief. If this Walmart aisle is any indicator, then there truly is a Hallmark card for everything.

Apparently, he just sucks balls at picking the right one out. No matter how long he peruses, he just can’t seem to find the right thing, and he’s been here for about ten minutes now. What would Josh like? Should he go for sincere, or humorous? And if he goes for humorous, should it be tasteful, or that card with the cartoon ass on the front cover and the bubble writing saying ‘You Ass-tound Me’?

In the end, he picks something simple. It’s a get well card for girls, but Chris doesn’t believe in that crap, and while Josh is on the fence about it – which can probably be attributed to a need to compensate in manliness for what he perceives as a failing on his part when it comes to his mental illness, something that has infuriated Chris to no end in the past – he doesn’t have to know.

It’s a matte, taupe shade with a tan heart on the front, reading “Just a reminder…” in typewriter font. Inside, it is a tan colour with the words “…that I love you!” emblazoned in cursive across the centre.

After Chris purchases it – for a pretty penny, he thinks grudgingly, noting that its disproportional price is probably due to how it’s been labelled as a ‘girl’s product’ – he pulls a Bic from somewhere in the depths of his pants’ pocket, scribbling an additional message inside. Giving it one final cursory glance, he snaps the card shut, nodding his satisfaction, and tucks it into the crook of his elbow.

_Perfect._

Later, Josh spies the card where Chris has left it on the kitchen table and picks it up, tentative. He almost misses it, dismissing it as his mom’s or maybe Hannah’s, and only realises it’s probably for him when he sees Chris’s car keys sprawled next to it, probably dumped there as an afterthought.

When he flips it open, he smiles, twitching slightly as his breath catches in his throat.

_Just a reminder… that I love you! Also: Have you taken your meds today? And did I mention that I love you?_

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he did to deserve Chris, his Cochise, especially with all the shit he puts him through. Between the meds, the constant sessions with Dr. Hill, the pranks and practical jokes that’ve probably been responsible for multiple burst blood vessels and countless almost-heart attacks, he’s a total disaster, and it was only to be expected that any relationship between them would be, too.

Instead, their relationship has been nothing but a success, blossoming into something neither of them could ever have foreseen. That’s not to say it’s been a walk in the park; no, just like anything else, shit can get tough. This is real-life, after all. But it’s little things like these, little moments and little reminders that as real as the monsters are, their feelings for each other are even _more_ real, are even stronger; that’s what makes it all worthwhile.

As Josh climbs the stairs to the bathroom, his feet thumping on the lavish pile in time with his thundering heart, holding the card tightly in his fist, his smile grows into a grin as he flips it open once more and re-reads Chris’s scrawled note, over and over.

He fully intends to take his meds here, in the privacy of their upstairs bathroom – the one that’s practically his own private ensuite, considering how little anyone else (apart from Chris, of course) uses it – but hesitates, glancing once again at the card, now a little creased, that he holds so tightly in his hand. Why _should_ he take them here? Why _should_ he be ashamed? Chris obviously doesn’t care, and besides, it’s really no different than taking a Panadol or something for a headache or a common cold, right?

Josh takes the pill bottle in his other hand, elbows the medicine cabinet shut with a rattle, and makes his way towards his bedroom, feeling lighter, like being reassured of his right to this one simple freedom – taking his pills anywhere he wants, rather than hidden in the bathroom with the lights turned off – has lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders.

And there’s no Hallmark card for that feeling.


End file.
